


Mira

by Snowblazehollyleafstar



Series: The Chronicles Of RC 841.720 [3]
Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs, Original Work, Protectors of the Plot Continuum
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 21:36:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20414701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowblazehollyleafstar/pseuds/Snowblazehollyleafstar
Summary: Edward is dismayed to find that he and Kat have been given responsibility for a newbie. What's worse, it seems she's here to stay, at least for a while...





	Mira

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The PPC belongs to Jay and Acacia and _Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children_ belongs to Ransom Riggs. Mira and her home continuum are mine. Thanks to Neo New Skater for beta-reading.

Mira tore across the field as fast as she could, her legs almost out of control. Her bare feet were soon soaked in the early-morning dew, but she didn’t care: the only thought in her mind was of getting to the portal before they realised that she’d gone and came after her.

She practically flew down the hill, acutely conscious of her left pocket and the risk that what it contained could be damaged or broken if she so much as brushed an object on her way down. And if she fell, it would be crushed altogether, and she didn’t know that she had the power to fix that.

At the bottom of the field was a wooden fence, nearly as tall as Mira. She probably couldn’t clear that in one bound by non-magical means, so she began muttering a series of basic spells to give her super-springy legs and then to avoid injuring herself as she landed.

That done, she confidently pushed herself upwards as she approached the fence. Unfortunately, it seemed that she’d put a bit too much power into the spell, as she flew upwards until she was nearly level with the tops of the trees in the woods beyond the fence.

She swore to herself in Elvish as gravity began to make its effects felt and she began to fall: slowly at first, but before long she was plummeting at a frightening rate. There was no time to cast any kind of spell to help herself. She was going to die.

Then, suddenly, when she was a good ten metres above the ground, she hit something hard and stopped falling.

“What the – “ she muttered to herself. Everything was hurting quite badly, but she appeared to be alive, her protection spells having done their job. That was the good news.

The bad news was that she had absolutely no idea what had just happened or where she now was.

Once she’d recovered from the worst of the fall, she got cautiously to her feet. They took her weight: she hadn’t sustained any major injuries.

Mira looked around, trying to find some useful information about her surroundings, but was disappointed: the walls and floor and ceiling were all made of some substance which defied description. It was no particular colour, or texture, but it did make her eyes hurt a little if she stared at it for too long.

On the wall opposite where she had landed were doors, made of the same mysterious indescribable material as the rest of the area. Beside each door was a little plaque with strange symbols on it. That was one piece of information she could gather, at least: whoever lived or worked here spoke a different language to any she knew.

For most people, this would have posed a problem, but for Mira it was no trouble: she simply focused on the nearest plaque and cast a spell of translation. Instantly the symbols morphed into more familiar letters, not that they meant anything to Mira: _RC 841.720_.

The other plaques also bore the letters “RC” followed by a number, but the numbers followed no logical progression whatsoever.

More concerning to Mira, though, was the slight heaviness of her eyes and sluggish feeling in her limbs. She knew these signs far more intimately than she wanted to. They were the first signs of magical exhaustion.

But that made no sense whatsoever: a couple of spells for the leap, one basic translation spell, that was all she’d done. The last time she’d been magically exhausted was after resurrecting three of her friends in a row.

Perhaps she’d unconsciously cast some very powerful spell to escape the fall and get herself here? That was certainly one possibility. But she didn’t care about how she’d got here so much as how she was going to get back. That, at least, was easy: a quick portal would do the job. She said the incantation to herself – but nothing happened.

The spell hadn’t registered. It was as if she’d tried to portal to a place she’d never been: but the woods close to the centre of the Island were her home, she’d been there thousands of times. And it didn’t feel like her access had been revoked, because then it felt like the spell had been blocked but here it had just… _stopped.___

_ _ She had no way of getting home. As she stood there, frozen in horror at this realisation, the door of “RC 841.720” creaked open and two people emerged. They both appeared to be human._ _

_ _ One was a woman, with wild blonde hair, dressed in a baggy purple jumper and blue jogging bottoms. The other, a man with dark hair, wore black clothes._ _

_ _ “Come on,” said the man, “let’s go.” He spoke in the same language as the plaque was written in. The translation spell was nearly seamless, but his voice sounded too crisp and precise to be normal. He gestured impatiently to the woman, who was staring suspiciously at Mira._ _

_ _ In that moment, Mira made up her mind to ask for help. She had no hope of learning to navigate this place and finding her way home alone. “Greetings,” she said, bowing her head in respect to the woman. “My name is Mira. I am in need of your assistance.”_ _

_ _ The man made an impatient gesture. Mira could sense hostility coming from him: he thought she was a waste of time. She didn’t need magic to tell her that, it was obvious from his body language._ _

_ _ “Hey,” said the woman, her informal tone jarring in Mira’s native Elvish, which rarely used informal language. “I’m Kat, this is Edward. You mustn’t mind him, he’s a bit grumpy. What d’you need help with?”_ _

_ _ “Look, you help her,” said Edward. “I’ll get food. I’ll bring you back some if you like.”_ _

_ _ Kat nodded._ _

_ _“Could you please tell me the name of this place?” asked Mira._ _

_ _ “HQ,” replied Kat._ _

_ _ The sense of this was lost in translation a little: Mira’s spell directly turned the letters into their Elvish equivalent, and the word “headquarters” in Elvish didn’t actually contain those letters._ _

_ _ Seeing Mira’s blank look, Kat continued, “Headquarters. The Headquarters of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Are you a newbie?”_ _

_ _ “I have just arrived in this place, if that is what you mean.”_ _

_ _ “Did you fall through a plothole?”_ _

_ _ “I certainly fell,” replied Mira. “If a plothole is something that will transport you from one place to another, then I suppose I did. Do you know of any way I can get home?”_ _

_ _ “That depends. Tell me about the place you came from.”_ _

_ _ “I was in the air, above some woods…”_ _

_ _ “No, that’s not what I mean. Your world. What it’s like. How it works.”_ _

_ _ “I see,” replied a somewhat confused Mira. “It has… magic. Lots of it. So much that with so many different casters reality rarely stays the same from day to day.”_ _

_ _ “Are there rules to this magic? Does it always work in a particular way?”_ _

_ _ “Yes,” replied Mira. “Definitely. Spells can be cast in several ways, but those ways always remain the same and there is only so much magic a person can cast.”_ _

_ _ “I might be wrong,” said Kat, “but it sounds to me as if you come from an unpublished original work.”_ _

_ _“What is an ‘unpublished original work’?” asked Mira, who didn’t understand what publication or something’s originality had to do with her world._ _

_ _ “Oh, sorry. Uh… a world that people don’t know about. That means it’s going to be very hard, if not impossible, to get you home.”_ _

_ _ Mira nodded. “These…plotholes… they just appear randomly?”_ _

_ _ Kat nodded._ _

_ _ “And I’m in a different world to where I came from?” At least some things were beginning to make sense to Mira._ _

_ _ Kat nodded again._ _

_ _ That solved the puzzle of why she was magically exhausted: her power came from the Stone at the centre of the Island and weakened the further you got away from it. This effect was normally so small that it was barely noticeable, but at this distance it would significantly reduce her power._ _

_ _ The good news, at least, was that the plothole had saved her from falling to her death. The bad news was that she was trapped here, without the use of her full power, until further notice._ _

_ _ “How would I go about trying to get home?” she asked._ _

_ _ “I… I guess you could try just guessing coordinates in the Remote Activator – that’s a sort of device which makes controlled plotholes called portals… but it would take forever.”_ _

_ _ “Then tell me more about this world,” said Mira decisively._ _

_ _ “That’s not really my job. If you follow me, I’ll take you to the people who can explain… just let me put some music on…”_ _

_ _ Mira, a keen amateur musician (her singing was awful, but she could play her wooden flute fairly well) was interested to see what music this world contained. She was slightly disconcerted to see Kat, instead of pulling out an instrument or beginning to sing, grabbing a smooth little device and pressing the top of it a few times, at which stage Mira could hear a drumbeat beginning quietly but increasing in volume._ _

_ _ “Oh,” said Kat, seeing Mira’s astonished face, “not much technology in your world?”_ _

_ _ “I… suppose so,” said Mira slowly._ _

_ _ “Come on,” said Kat, “let’s go Upstairs.”_ _

_ _

_ _Three hours later, Edward and Kat were, as usual, relaxing in their RC. Kat was watching the new _Aladdin_ (which Edward was doing his best to ignore) on the console while Edward was buried in a copy of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_. It was the seventh time he’d read that book._____ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ There was a knock at the door. “I’m not getting it,” said Kat, “this is my favourite bit!”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ Edward rolled his eyes, made a mental note of the page he was on, put down his book and got up. He reached the door in two strides and turned the handle._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ On the other side stood the weird girl from earlier. She was almost but not quite human. There were just a few subtle differences which made her seem unnatural: her eyes a little too large and round, her hair a little too dark and straight._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Greetings,” she said to him. Her voice sounded different to how it had done before. It had been almost electronic in its precise rhythm without the natural rise and fall of ordinary speech. Now it had that, but there was also a peculiar accent he’d never heard before._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ “It’s you again,” he said, annoyed at being interrupted. “What do you want?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ “I have been told that the Flowers That Be wish me to undertake my training with you and your partner.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ Edward groaned mentally, and only just managed to stop himself from groaning out loud as well. “I suppose you’d better come in, then. If that’s what the Flowers want.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ “Thank you,” she said, stepping past him into the RC._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ “Hello, Mira,” said Kat. “Welcome to RC 841.720.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ “There are only two beds,” said Edward flatly. “And I’m not sharing with anyone.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“You can sleep on the floor, then,” said Kat to Edward, a mischievous twinkle in her eye which told Edward that she didn’t, thankfully, mean what she said._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ “I can sleep on the floor,” said Mira. “It is not a problem for me.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ “Are you sure? I’m happy to sort something else out if you’d rather…”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ “No,” said Mira. “It is fine.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ “Do you know what you’re doing?” asked Edward._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ “A little. We are meant to kill… Mary Sues?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ “Have you read _Harry Potter_?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ “No.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ Edward walked over to the bookshelf and pulled out an extremely battered copy of _Philosopher’s Stone_. He tossed it to Mira, who caught it with nimble fingers._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ “There you are. Get going.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ Mira nodded, and perched herself delicately on the edge of the sofa. She glanced around before opening the book to page one and beginning to read._ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
